Smoketree Read Online Free PDF

started to protest. So much food—but he turned toward me with a two-pronged fork in one hand. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those damned vegetarians.”
    I looked at the glint in his blue eyes. “No,” I answered truthfully. “But—that’s too much. ”
    “Then the dogs can have what you don’t finish. ” The steak sizzled in the pan as he turned his back on me again. “There’s beer in the icebox… if you want a salad, make it. ”
    I felt the laughter well up again. “Isn’t this against a cowboy’s code of honor, or something? Cooking for a woman?”
    “We’re not all male chauvinist pigs.” He paused as I smothered a laugh. “Did you think I’d never heard of such?”
    “Well—”
    “Never mind,” he said grimly. “I’ve been underestimated before. ”
    I watched him pull spices down from a cupboard, sprinkling the steak and then spreading it with a thin film of steak sauce. He moved as if he knew precisely what he was doing.
    “You’ve been married, haven’t you?” I saw the line of his shoulders stiffen. “Or did you just live together?”
    “What makes you think it’s either one?” He didn’t turn; he didn’t need to.
    “A hunch.” I slid off the stool and went to the refrigerator and pulled out a long-necked Budweiser. “Which was it?”
    “That’s private.”
    “Yes,” I agreed affably. “Just like my affairs.”
    That brought him around. His face was very still a long moment, almost too still, and then it softened. Just a little. “Touche, ”he said quietly. “Well then, how about one of those for me?”
    I twisted the top off and handed him the bottle. I took one for myself as well, forgoing a glass; when in Rome, as they say. I climbed back up on my stool, watched him fry the steak, and sipped at my beer.
    “Which was it?” I repeated.
    “You don’t get anything for free,” he said over the sizzle of the steak. “An even trade.”
    I stared at his back. He still wore the hat, even inside the kitchen; I wondered if he slept in it. And then I lifted my brows in minor astonishment. What was I doing wondering how he slept?
    Harper turned around. “I was married, once,” he said. “How about you?”
    “I thought you said Cass told you about me.”
    “Cass doesn’t know as much as she thinks she does.” The words were mean, but the tone was gentle. Brotherly. And yet I knew that wasn’t how she viewed him. I’d seen that easily enough when we’d met Harper on the drive in.
    “I wasn’t married.
    “Spoken for?”
    I smiled a little. “You might say that. We didn’t really live together—our jobs kept us on different coasts too often for that—but it was close enough.” I gestured with my bottle. “I prefer it resembling meat instead of old boot leather, please.” He turned down the heat obligingly. “What broke you up?” I felt the tingling in every inch of my skin. Suddenly the kitchen felt cold, except it was me, not the room. I stared at him blankly. “Who said we broke up?”
    He shrugged. “Isn’t that why you came?”
    I laughed once. There was no humor in it, it was just a blurt of sound. “You thought I came here because of the end of an affair?”
    His mouth twisted beneath the moustache. “It’s been done before. Smoketree’s a nice place to escape to, if you feel the need to escape. Some do.” His eyes were steady on my face. “I’ve seen it before,” he told me gently. “Women and men. They come here to pick up the pieces, some of them; others come for the relaxation. I know which you came for. It’s easy enough to see. But not why .”
    “Then Cass didn’t tell you much at all.” I stared at the beer bottle in my hands. “Well, you have some of it right. I did come to escape. Picking up those pieces.” I shook my head. “I suppose I’m no different than anyone else.”
    He pulled the steak from the pan and put it on a plate. That he set down next to me on the breakfast bar, along with knife and